Sunday, September 12, 2010

A Japanese Bath

I want to go to Japan.

Not just because I love Sushi (even while pregnant, and yes I eat the cooked kind but if I want one piece of Spicy Tuna, that's fine and you should not even blink wrong or be prepared for the wrath that shall be unleashed upon you) Not just because we have a Ninja complex in this family - complete with Samari sword and limited training, Not just because DJ has a weird Japanese accent, courtesy of watching non-stop Naruto in Japanese, Not just because I want to do Geisha training and pour perfect tea. All of that is true but I've love Japan ever since I heard about Japanese bathing rituals when I was a teenager.

All I remember is how they shower first, scrubbing themselves very clean, then they get into the hottest water possible and submerge until completely relaxed. The waterbaby in me can think of no greater pleasure. So why am I sitting here thinking about a Japanese bath? Weeellll because the sullen child in me is taking over and after a crazy weekend with the Governor and September birthday parties and campaign life. I want a Japanese bath.

 And I can't have one. And I'm pissed.

Its ridiculous. I know it. But I had gotten used to having them at the TH. The TH had the most amazing stand alone tub and fabulous shower. Right now I want nothing more than to be able to fill up the tub, add my salts and bubbles and oils and  pretend I am in Japan doing the Japanese bathing ritual with a glass of wine. Now I know here I can still soak but I hate having to shower, wash out the tub then wait for it to fill. I want to be able have my Japanese bath. I want what I can't have and in truth I'm a little bitchy about it.

I know, I know, there's a point to the sacrifice, we are recollecting ourselves, building, making good strong decisions. That's fine and as usual, I will buck up and get it together and move the hell on. But in this moment, in this minute in these few seconds I want to cry and sulk and obsess. I want to have a little conversation with my Father and pout and wait for His Spirit to fall on me and restore me and fill me and to be enough and it will be. Because it is.

Then I will run my good old American bath and be perfectly happy. Until the kids burst in.